Hieros Gamos: The Holy Marriage
by Carolare Scarletus
Summary: The land bore no ferns for a reason, and every night at the toll of eight, it comes out to prey on the young priestess that promised to protect the stone from it. Based on the Armanen Rune Set; Norse Mythology; Au; Dark! Hermione/Draco.


Written for **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) Assignment #4, Ancient Runes: Runes Set; #2**

 **Author's Note:** **I didn't think a whole story would evolve from just researching these rune sets, but it did. I do plan on going back to this eventually. I really enjoyed learning about the different runes and their meanings. Plus, another chance to read up on good myths! *Fangirl moment* Anyway, let me know what you think :)**

 ** _As always, enjoy_**

 **-Carolare Scarletus**

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 _Hieros Gamos: The Holy Marriage_

Dark times approached the small kingdom hidden in the forest of Járnviðr. Their misfortunes were due to a curse placed upon the land years ago. Their king, Acasius, prayed almost every night to Freyja, the goddess of spring and rebirth, but his voice fell upon death ears and became trapped within the thick canopy of the forest that surrounded his land. He had somehow angered the Goddess. Desperate to appease the her, without knowing he had belittled, Acasius sent a messenger to find anyone who could help turn the plague placed upon his kingdom and turn the barren land back into the sprawling hills that once surrounded his home. He found it hard to deal with the troubles that the misunderstanding brought him, and it was only punctuated by the endless wait. Years passed in slow procession, and by the end of the year and the greeting of another, he had lost all hope until one day they arrived barring the news that he desperately needed to hear.

For his people, Acasius' prayers were answered in a form of a rustic pendant brought to him by a simple merchant. He had travelled from distant lands, where prosperity was as abundant as an ocean and his people flourished triumphantly against the odds of uncertainty. The King had been wary of his visitor's reputation. Among them were thieves and worshippers of the unnatural. Some of them were even self-proclaimed procurers of the elements. They arrived of handsome steads that had been dressed gorgeously for the occasion. In a customary salute, they all assembled before him, tucked their chins into their chests, and crossed a single arm in the formal action that was their greeting. His people broke into righteous uproar. Acasius had taken a grand liking to the leader of the tribe, a striking man with dark hair and eyes that grazed the fields in the most absurd, yet demanding manner. He held him captive, as well as his people, as he spoke to them the best he could in their native tongue.

"We have come from distant lands to bring peace and prosperity between our two nations!" he proclaimed wickedly as the fire that was held between them cackled and hissed. Anyone foolish enough not to heed the warnings would bring doom to them all, except for Acasius. He looked at the man with intrigue as his stone-like features grossed into a more natural and welcoming form.

"You have traveled a great way," he said to them at long last, removing himself from his comfortable throne to greet them in front of the fire. "And, what noble travelers of the harsh terrain. What kind of King would I be not to welcome you graciously to my kingdom and offer you sanctuary until you have healed? We have very little, but we welcome you nonetheless. Come, this is cause for celebration! It is the night of the Full moon and Mani would be delighted that you join in our ritual!"

The foreigners followed the kind king. They pitched their tents into the ground and they soon found themselves hazy with intoxication. The moon slipped well above the horizon and rested against the starless plane of the sky.

As they rejoiced, the king asked his guest for a tale of their travels, to which they obliged graciously. Rejoicing, Acasius wished to celebrate more. It wasn't until late in the festivities that relief from the calamity of the world rose from his shoulders and he was able to breath.

"We have seen many lands," the leader of the small group, the one whose eyes were kept at a distant gaze. Acasius looked to him with understanding, ushering him with a smile to continue. "None has brought us great awe than the one that we came from."

"Do tell us about this distant land."

The leader looked up, his black eyes shimmering in the firelight. "It is a tale, I am sure, you have heard before."

"All tales are just stories of old." He bade them. "Passed down from leader to listener, father to child- I am sure that wherever you hail from was brilliant. Tell us."

Their guest spoke of ancient grounds, whose green canvas was marked with a pillaging sense of doom. It was host to the peculiar, and played on the weakest of sensibilities that if one were to ponder its origins, the weight of it would crash down upon you like a ton of bricks. Acasius listened carefully. He forgot all about the merriment when his visitor mentioned a small token he had taken from the land and brought back with him as a souvenir, a kind of talisman for his people. At the end of the meeting, Acasius took him privately to his home where he presented him a gift that caught his intrigue the moment he presented it to him in his tale.

They convened inside the small tent of Acasius' throne room. In the dimly lit area, they peeled back the layers of their differences and came to one mutual understanding the revolved around the small artifact that his guest gifted him. Placing it underneath spellbound lantern, he pulled back the cloth that protect it. Acasius and his friend looked at its curious wonder, its intriguing texture and the small lines that coated its worn surface. Desperate to touch it, and to feel whatever mystifying power it may hold, Acasius reached out a hand but was thwarted by the foreign traveler. He was quick to apologize and explain his troubles.

"Its origins are unknown." His dear visitor proclaimed before he raised his head to greet his curious gaze. "I found it during my travels in the East, as I told you. My people and I heard of your land and we've traveled a long way just to pay homage to you. I came here hoping you would be able to tell me what it is, and if there is any significance to you seeing that it has been engraved with your land's script."

"Tell me, where in the East did you find this pendant?" he asked. "Surely, you wouldn't have allowed just anyone to accompany you during your travels? It must have been quite taxing, if I say so myself."

His friend smiled famously before saying," Not many of my people would understand. But, the pendant? Does it spark any recollection?"

Acasius nodded. He took a seat at his throne, ushering him to do the same.

"It is indeed written in my tongue." The insinuation of the underlying evil gave birth to the chilling culture of the room. The winds themselves seemed to carry through the small enclosure, but his friend knew better. His dark eyes struck gold, capturing him in a momentary hold. When he looked away, he could still feel his eyes on him. "It is quite the legendary object of my people. Though, no one ever recalls ever seeing such a piece. It is deemed unlucky to have it one's possession."

"It is valuable, then?" his guest asked a bit too anxiously. Greed was written all over his face.

"Valuable!" he barked in laughter. "Freyja herself has been parading around the earth in search of this piece! How you came across it is beyond me, but I must advise you- put it back where you found it."

Acasius could see inside the mind of the merchant, and what he found was nothing less than displeasing.

 _The thick heavy fog surrounding the campsite mysteriously lifted as the melodious sound grew to a crescendo. The men tending to the fire grew instantly helpless to the call, and they soon found themselves trapped by the mischievous play of the woodland nymphs. Hopelessly, the listened. As they rose from the ground, dropping their armory and ignoring the beseeching cries of their brothers, Rafael, the commander of the expedition, lead the varied group of men away from the safety of their embers and straight into the hands of their death._

 _They walked for what seemed like hours until they fell upon a small area where no vegetation of any kind grew and definitive marking of a circle could be clearly seen. A heeding of eeriness transgressed the plaintive field. Everything lead back to the small patch._

 _Rafael had been sent in search of a precious amulet. One forged in gorgeous stone and a great legend around their parts. It looked as if he found its burial site._

If what he witnessed was true, Acasius had to act fast.

"It is Freyja's necklace. And, you stole it."

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 **Author's Notes:**

Járnviðr (Old Norse "Iron-wood") is a forest located east of Midgard, inhabited by troll women who bore giantesses and giant wolves.

Draupnir (Old Norse "the dripper"), in Norse Mythology, is a gold ring possessed by the god Odin that has the ability to multiply itself: Every ninth night, eight new rings 'drip' from Draupnir, each one of the same size and weight as the original.

Draupnir was forged by the dwarven brothers Brokkr and Eitri (or Sindri). Brokkr and Eitri made this ring as one of a set of three gifts which included Mjöllnir and Gullinbursti.

 _Brísingamen_ (or _Brísinga men_ ) is the torc or necklace of the goddess Freyja. The name is an Old Norse compound _brísinga-men_ whose second element is _men_ "(ornamental) neck-ring (of precious metal), torc".

Hieros Gamos or Hierogamy (Greek ἱερὸς γάμος, ἱερογαμία "holy marriage") is a sexual ritual that plays out a marriage between a god and a goddess, especially when enacted in a symbolic ritual where human participants represent the deities.

In Wicca, the Great Rite is a ritual based on the Hieros Gamos. It is generally enacted symbolically by a dagger being placed point first into a chalice, the action symbolizing the union of the male and female divine. In British Traditional Wicca, the Great Rite is sometimes carried out by the High Priest and High Priestess.


End file.
